Operationally Ready Date

The more observant among my readership might have noticed that the little countdown window at the top right hand corner of my blog that has been counting down for the past one and a half years or so has finally stopped counting down. For the less informed of you, that means that yes, I have officially ORDed.

It was a rather interesting experience for me. The supposedly typical scene of ORD has always been of a bunch of crazy maniacs running around and shouting at the top of their lungs with their pink ICs stuck on their foreheads while their ex-superiors look on powerless, no longer commanding the authority to stop them. However, my actual ORD experience was far more subtle. I walked into camp and had a small chat with the people who were in the office at the time, then proceeded to the CCO to collect my IC. Of course there was joy and laughter, because in the end it truly is a happy and long-awaited milestone, but there was also a bittersweet sense of farewell as we said our goodbyes to the people we've met over the course of our journey.

Considering how I still have many fond memories of my two years of JC, it's not hard to imagine that I've also gained many meaningful experiences through my 22 months of NS. Of course, many of them are memories that bring a cringe onto my face when I remember them, such as doing push-ups on the scalding-hot basketball court on bookout day during BMT, or having to stay in SI until 9pm on bookout night to clean the toilet, and even having to polish the tracks of a tracked vehicle with black shoe polish. However, nestled amongst the many exhausting and tiring challenges that I have faced the past 22 months are also a few gems of memories; memories of sharing simple joys with new-found friends, of working together with your platoon to achieve what you initially thought was impossible, and of meeting and greeting people from all walks of life. As tough and painful as the past 2 years have been, they have also been equally precious and priceless, and as grudgingly as I have to say this it still must be said: NS has been an absolutely necessary part of my life and I cannot imagine what I would be like today without it.

So it is not with arrogant triumph or condescending sneering that I say this, but with the same nostalgic thoughtfulness with which one might turn the pages of a high school yearbook:

ORD loh

Comfort in Certainty

There is a certain kind of relief, perverse as it may seem, when you see that a tower that has been on the verge of collapse for so long finally starts crumbling down. No more gasping at every little sway of the building to the left or right; no more having your hopes picked up from the ground and then thrown back down again; no more wondering whether the tower had miraculously stabilised itself while you weren't looking the past month and a half. There is a certain comfort in certainty, even if it is a certainty of destruction.

When it all began, I told myself not to take sides and just let the storm ride itself out, but all the things I've seen and heard are just too overwhelming to ignore. And yet, in the end I still find my feet planted firmly in neutral ground.

In other, less depressing news, a friend has suggested that we start a joint HubPage to earn some money on the side. While I'm not very confident in drawing in readers (Exhibit A: this blog), it still seems like something that would be fun to do. After all, what have I got to lose?

One thing at a time

Applying to US universities on your own, without the guidance of teachers or a school, is confusing, exasperating work. I have no idea where to begin. Sometimes I feel like just forgetting about this whole thing, but then again I can't let this chance just slip away, can I?

Gloominess aside, I am officially hooked onto this song used in a recent Homestuck update:



This song is just the perfect combination of smooth, lively and video game retro, but what can I say? My patron troll is awesome.

::::)

Freedom? Maybe later.

Yes, I'm back, and yes, I've been back for 3 days already, so don't bug me about not posting immediately because I KNOW already.

But delusions of actual readership aside, my return from Wallaby pretty much starts the countdown to my ORD. From here on out, I technically have enough off and leave to never set foot in camp until that fateful day, though I'll probably still go back once or twice for the sake of properly handing/taking over my duties. To think, in about a month and a half's time my routine as I have known it for one and a half years will come to an abrupt end. Honestly, I wouldn't know what to do with all that spare time.

Is it weird that I actually feel hesitant about my ORD? Or maybe more specifically, what I should do before and after the fateful day. Studying for SAT II is only half done; uni applications are also only halfway through; haven't even started on uni essays yet. Am I really ready to venture out on my own? Again: yes, I know it's my fault for not managing my time properly and whatnot; I'm not pushing blame or pointing fingers here, i'm just venting. Why can't you just let a guy vent?

On a less depressing side note, during Wallaby I started reading a webcomic called Homestuck. Well, "webcomic" is being used loosely here because a significant part of the Homestuck experience also consists of gifs, flash animations and even interactive minigames which all serve to present a deliciously complicated storyline filled with alternate dimensions, time travel and aliens just to name a few, as well as hilariously ridiculous running gags and jokes. It is a complexly woven epic which is also not afraid to take itself lightly and thus saves itself from being heavy-handed.

Look at that stunning character art. Isn't that reason enough to start reading Homestuck?

But seriously, irony aside, go read it. It's long and it's confusing, but if you have the patience to follow through with the introductions then you will enjoy it, I guarantee you.

PS: I'm still not yet current with Homestuck so NO SPOILERS!!!

Pseudo-game review: 999: 9 Hours, 9 Persons, 9 Doors

It's unfortunate and untimely that at such a fragile point of my life I would start to have such an objectively trivial but emotionally burdensome personal crisis of sorts. And for both problems, the only solution is to wait for Father Time to come and make everything better. Goes to show that people like me can't be left to their own devices for too long or they'll start over-thinking everything. Maybe I just need a good old-fashioned distraction.

Speaking of which, in my time in pre-Wallaby so far I have played and completed a Nintendo DS game called 999: 9 Hours, 9 Persons, 9 Doors:

Honestly, before I picked up this game I had no idea exactly what I was in for; all I did was skim through IGN and find that this was a pretty highly recommended mystery visual novel/puzzle-solving point-and-click adventure, which to me meant that I could basically pick up this game in between doing work for a casual gaming experience. Ironically, I ended up devoting hours and even days on this game in a bid to figure it out because it was simply THAT amazing and engaging.

In short summary, you wake up in a place you've never seen before and realise that you've been kidnapped by a mysterious person named Zero and have been forced to play a twisted game of "escape the sinking ship" with 8 other people whom you don't know and find hard to trust. Besides a multitude of challenging puzzles that you have to solve to escape each room, you also have to think about which room you want to go into next and how to answer conversations with the other victims, all of which may or may not completely change the ending you are headed towards. In fact, multiple endings and playthroughs are a defining part of what 999 is all about: you will almost certainly die in your first playthrough, but the knowledge you gain about the whole conspiracy will aid you and tempt you to keep playing to discover more endings. And when you finally piece together all the pieces and unlock all 6 (SIX!!!) possible endings, the entire weight of the game will come crashing down on you and you will spend days thinking about a finale that is equal parts shocking, eerie, heart-warming and pretty much perfectly fitted to the story that has been constructed up till that point. From a storyline, atmosphere and engagement point of view, 999 is simply perfection; there's nothing else I can add to that.

Except, maybe...

That A SEQUEL IS COMING OUT!!!

Zero Escape: Virtue's Last Reward (the video's title is a literal translation of the Japanese title so it's a bit weird) is a self-contained story, but is made by the same guys who made 999 and features two characters from the previous game, so it's a sequel in a way. While 999's main puzzle mechanic was digital roots, Zero Escape seems to be based around the idea of the Prisoner's Dilemma. The Japanese version is out already, and the North American version will be out on 23 October, which is perfect for when I touch down from Wallaby and start to buy my post-ORD devices. I still don't know if I'm getting a 3DS or a PS Vita, but I do know that either way, this will be one of the first games I'm getting. So PSYCHED for the sequel of a game that I've only played literally just a few days ago. But what can I say; I'm completely smitten.

Take-off

The plane is leaving in 6 hours, but I'm feeling surprisingly emotionless. Maybe that should be the case, but maybe not; Australia will still be the same as it was last year, but the Singapore I'm leaving behind is completely different.

It seems that the motel that is my life is taking in customers now.

Time is Running Out

I'm leaving for Australia in 3 days (for Wallaby, not leisure, so you can stop being jealous now) there's so much to be done in Singapore.

The past few days have been hectic, to say the least. Ever-changing schedules have somehow caused me to lose nearly all my embarkation leave, and until now I'm still not done packing.

Sometimes I feel that I'm in the passenger seat of my own life, only watching but not controlling what happens to me.

If you don't like it, please don't put a ring on it

"Till Death do us part" seems like such an empty promise these days.

You can capture a body, but you cannot capture a heart. And perhaps, having an empty shell of a person is worse than not having someone at all.

And I discovered that my castles stand / Upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand

Commitment

A calm, serene lake, but all was not as it seemed. Turmoil lurked under the surface, violent undercurrents which rose from the bottom towards the top, ripping everything asunder as they rose. Finally, a leviathan broke through to the surface, shattering the mirror-smooth face of the lake I once mistook for true peace. It was poised, ready to devour the lake and all life within it. Then, just as suddenly, it was gone. A tenuous silence was restored, but it was not the peace I once knew. The surface of the lake rippled constantly, seemingly quivering with fear, wary of the next time the leviathan would strike again.

Don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you got till it's gone.

Love is not an emotion; love is a commitment.

Transition

It really only just occurred to me that I'm getting pretty close to my ORD. In about four and a half months, I'll be out of the army and thrown into the cold winds of reality, and the ironic thing is that in spite of all the whining and the complaining and the wishing for NS to end, I honestly think that at this point I'm still not ready for what lies beyond. Preparations need to be done, tests need to be taken, universities have to be applied to.

I guess that just leaves four and a half months for all that. Let the transition begin.

Method acting

I like to think that nobody is truly evil or malevolent; some people might place less emphasis on morality in their decision-making processes than others, but I believe that it is always a factor that is duly considered and only acted against in light of the most prudent of their judgement. Rather, it is the circumstances in which people find themselves that compel them to make choices that seem justified to them, but perhaps not others. What outsiders might perceive as errors of judgement or even direct antagonisation might just be the best or only viable course of action for someone, all things considered.

The problem is that other people might not think the same way I do, and in the end people get despised not for who they are, but for the characters they have to play as; blamed for the decisions that are hard to follow through with but have to be made in the face of the situation.

All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players

Monster

My anger is something that I try to mitigate, because I have seen in my youth that I'm not very good at controlling it once it breaks loose. I thought I've been doing a pretty good job at it, and I honestly thought that I wouldn't again succumb to the mindless lashing out that accompanies a pure, blind rage. Two weeks ago, it nearly happened. I was trying to maintain my composure, but I could feel myself losing grip on the monster within. It felt like my skin was a porcelain shell cracking, and pure molten rage was spewing out from the fissures. I managed to keep my anger from reaching explosive levels, but the damage has already been done.

The weird and the wonderful

For those of you who have forgotten (and if so, shame on you), Art By Numbers released their debut album, Reticence: The Musical, on 29th May. It's a really catchy album which would be a great gateway for people trying to get into prog metal and even metal in general, but still manages to stand tall in terms of technical skills and writing. They decided to mostly drop the screamo from their Reyes and Minotaur days (those songs make a comeback in non-screamo versions, by the way), which is not necessarily bad, but just different. I've listened through the album about 4 times already and I'm still trying to decide on my favourite song of the album, so instead of giving any recommendations I'll just link directly to their full album stream and you can decide on your own.

Now that we're done with the wonderful, it's time to talk about that other thing. And if you think that I'm being judgmental by calling out a whole other genre of music as "weird", then I assure that what you're about to see and hear is objectionably weird. Say hello to BabyMetal:





It's kawaii-style J-pop... With death metal... I'm not sure if I need to say anything else. But all things said and done, "weird" does not necessarily exclude "good", and I can't say that I outright don't like this music; the metal parts are decent enough, and the J-pop parts are bearable. But then you get to actually watching the music videos, with the 3 girls acting sickeningly cute enough to give anyone diabetes against a backdrop of blast beats and guitar riffs, and I find myself getting goosebumps every time I force myself to sit through them. I'd hate to jump on the "WTF Japan" bandwagon, but seriously can you blame me in this case?

Reigniting an old flame

If you know me, you'll know that up until quite recently I was still moderately active in playing Pokemon. I challenged D/P Battle Tower like there was no tomorrow (and finally managed to get a >100 streak using Togekiss/Garchomp/Milotic :D ) and dabbled in ShoddyBattle. I was pretty interested in the competitive Pokemon scene, and clearing the main story was simply something I had to do to unlock the Battle Tower and grab all the essential items and TMs. Then B/W came out. I was very impressed by the effort put in to develop plot and character development that was miles ahead of any Pokemon game before it. It really recaptured the feeling of wanting to be a Pokemon master and wanting to save the world from evil. I was actually engaged in the Unova lore.

Time came and went, and I eventually lost interest in competitive Pokemon (because the metagame is now saturated with weather -.- ), and for a while now I thought that with that I had lost interest in Pokemon as a whole. This video changed that:



After being jaded towards Pokemon for so long, this animated trailer for the upcoming Pokemon Black 2 and White 2 reminded me that I love the series for more than simply Pokemon Online and competitive battling. It reminded me that every playthrough represents a new adventure against great odds, every character a friend or foe whose presence will still be felt after the final credits roll, and every battle an epic clash of power and wit. This video puts into visual form every childhood fantasy of anybody who has ever played Pokemon as a child.

Now I remember what it feels like to be excited for a new Pokemon release not because of that new Pokemon with awesome stats or that broken ability or that revolutionary move, but because it's yet another road into a fantastical land that I yearn to immerse myself in.

Carpe Diem

An accident in the news is just a noteworthy piece of information at best. An accident that happens close to heart is suddenly so much more.

This morning, there was yet another accident involving NSFs: a jeep carrying four NSFs overturned. Of the four, two made it out relatively unscathed, one suffered lacerations, and the last passenger unfortunately passed away in hospital.

This is not the first time an NSF has died during army training, but this one strikes especially close to home. Not only am I now an NSF as well and the same age as the victim, but he was also from the same Catholic High School batch as I. I did not really know him personally, but the idea that someone so similar to myself suddenly had his life snatched away from him, like a carpet pulled away from under his feet, is disconcerting to say the least. Suddenly, I am reminded that fate is blind and the reaper harvests from young and old alike. Ironically, I find myself going back to a philosophy that was frequently championed back in Cat High: Carpe Diem.

BUTTERSAFE

Alright, after all that jazz, the SAT is finally over. Some things went quite well, some things could have gone better, but overall I don't really want to dwell on the past anymore. Instead, I have focused my attention on hilariously retarded webcomics. And here is where I present my bountiful find of the night: http://buttersafe.com/. I actually wanted to post some of the funnier comics here, but then I realised it would be pointless because it's all funny. So instead, I will post the URL again with an extra-large font.

http://buttersafe.com/

There you go. Now get off this blog. Buttersafe is waiting.

How do I academics again?

The HQ Armour off week (AKA my pre-SAT off week) has come to a close, and tomorrow is the actual SAT. Regardless of how much (or how little) preparation I've managed to squeeze in, now is the time to let it all show. Truth be told though, I'm still having trouble plotting my course of action after this. University choices are still nothing but whispers in the fog for me right now, even as the deadline draws closer for me to make my decision. And that's not even considering other less urgent but still present matters to deal with, namely whether and when I'm going to get my driver's license. Oh well, at this juncture all I can do is do my best for tomorrow's test and see where it goes from there.

Here's to my first major exam in one and a half years. Wish me good luck. Do it now. I DEMAND IT. WISH ME.

Avenged Sevenfold + Singapore

As I'm typing this, my legs are still aching from standing and jumping for two hours non-stop, and my eyes can barely keep themselves open, but it doesn't matter because I JUST CAME BACK FROM THE A7X CONCERT. This has been a long time coming for Bryan, Joshua, You'en and I, and now that it's over I think I can safely say on their behalf that it exceeded all our expectations.

Since this was my first rock concert, I wasn't entirely sure what to expect. The venue, The Hard Rock Coliseum at RWS, was much smaller than I had imagined, but I soon realised that that didn't really matter once the lights went down and everyone started jumping all over the place. Everyone was already super-hyped even before A7X showed up, singing along to the Metallica songs being played over the speakers and chanting "SEVENFOLD" in between the songs. Then the band finally appeared and everyone went wild. The flow of the concert was pretty fluid as well, with M. Shadows pausing at opportune moments to make small talk with the audience before proceeding with the next song. Execution of the songs was, needless to say, nearly flawless, as is standard procedure with Avenged Sevenfold, and The Rev's temporary replacement in this performance, Arin Ilejay, is pretty good drummer in his own right, so kudos to him for that.

And now, without further ado, the concert proceedings:

It all started with the lights turning off, followed by the familiar bells signaling the start of Nightmare, and at the end of that song while everyone was cheering, it took a while for us to pick up on the pipe organ at the start of Critical Acclaim. After that headbang-intensive song, they took some time to introduce us to the new drummer, leading pretty appropriately into Welcome to the Family. Then there was silence, until M. Shadows started chanting "I'm not insane," getting the crowd to join in, and finally going into Almost Easy, followed by Buried Alive. They then dedicated So Far Away to The Rev, followed by Afterlife, and then kicked it old-school with Beast and the Harlot. After that, Matt said that we looked too tired to continue and side-tracked into a love story. The crowd was confused at first, but the moment we heard that he "must have stabbed her fifty f***ing times," we knew that A Little Piece of Heaven was next. Then Matt asked how many of us had gone to America before, then how many have been to Las Vegas, and how many have been to this place right next to Sin City, a little place called Bat Country. That was supposedly the last song, and the band walked off the stage. Left to their own devices, the audience started chanting "we want more," then "5 more songs," and even "what the f***," until the band finally came back up on stage to perform Fiction. After that, Matt told us an anecdote about how he met a few fans in the elevator and they gave a song request, and they decided to fulfill it. That song, much to my surprise and delight, was Second Heartbeat, and it was even better than the LBC version because this time it was the full version, complete with the breakdown and drummer-boy guitar solo parts, which the song really isn't complete without. At that point I was already completely satisfied with my life, but they decided to squeeze in one more encore, Unholy Confessions. Right before the end of the song, they told us to form a venue-wide mosh pit so they could get footage for their upcoming DVD, which we promptly did, as they teased us with the intro riff from Crossroads, before finally concluding the concert.

All in all, a great performance by an amazing band, spent in the company of good friends and fellow fans. Totally worth the $110, and I would probably have paid double if I knew how good it would turn out to be :D

PS:

That's right; like this, but better.

EDIT
PPS:

Found a recording of the Singaporean version :D

Funtasia

Went back to NJ yesterday to attend their Funtasia fund-raiser, and chatted a bit with some of my ex-teachers and fellow ex-NJCians in the process. I have to say that the school has changed quite a bit from when I was there, even though it's only been two years. For some reason, I just get the impression that it feels more... vibrant? Quite a few things that I don't think the management would have green-lighted before were present during the carnival, including a bouncy gladiator arena which we promptly booked all to ourselves for the purpose of a five-way deathmatch. You read that right: five 20-year-old NSFs paid $15 to get into an inflatable ring and beat each other silly with inflatable axes and foam punching gloves. I have crazy friends, yes.

Missing the days of whispering jokes to each other and/or sleeping during lessons and lectures, eating together during breaks and making the slowest guy return all the plates, trying to do homework together after school but ending up playing Monopoly Deal/basketball/frisbee instead... The list goes on. Oh well, you'll never enjoy the preset if your mind is caught in the past.

"Zombie"

Yes, I know this is way overdue, but here it is anyway: the composition that I wrote in camp based on the one-word prompt "zombie". You know, because why not.


"And remember that part when she bit him? How he tried to resist the virus but still became infected in the end? That was so cool!"


Four teenagers walked out of the cinema hall, but one voice rang louder than the rest. While the other three enjoyed the occasional zombie flick, John loved zombie movies with a passion. The horror of seeing men walk with the spark of life missing from their eyes, the despair that the lonely survivors feel, the existential torment that zombies must feel in limbo between life and death; these were all emotions that John loved to watch, and he hoped that one day he would be able to show his version of the zombie apocalypse to the world. John's dream was to become a movie director, to be able to feel all the powerful, beautiful emotions of fantasy and reality and portray them on the big screen for the world to see.


As absurd and far-fetched as that goal may seem to an outsider, it was a goal that fit right into John's clique, which also consisted aspiring footballer Zach, avid painter Marcus and self-proclaimed future dance queen Zoe. "The Dreamers", as they liked to call themselves, became close friends through their shared tendency to dream big and their determination to achieve their goals. At that point, the group decided to split up as Zach needed to go for soccer practice, so John made his way back home.


Even before entering the front door of his house, John knew from the sound of the six o'clock news from the television that his dad was home early from work, and anxiously waited outside, debating with himself over whether he should stay outside another hour until his dad went back to his room to read the newspapers. "Don't be silly," John told himself. "You'll have to breach the subject sooner or later, so might as well make it today." With a final deep breath, John slowly creaked the door open.


"Dad," John said, trying to sound casually confident. He evidently did not try hard enough, as his dad looked up with a slightly puzzled and wary look. John pressed on. "Did Mom pass you my report card?"


"Yes," his dad said, letting his guard down slightly and allowing a faint smile to form on his lips. "Great job, son. I had confidence in you, but straight A's is still a very pleasant surprise."


Boldened by the positive response, John continued. "Well, do you think this proves that I will be able to adapt to the School of the-"


His dad's face turned black nearly instantly. "Not this again," he said, restrained exasperation clear in his voice. "I've told you before that it's much safer to go to a normal school and get a normal, stable job. I'm not letting my son go to some so-called 'School of the Arts'." John opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by his father. "Think about your grades, son," he said. "They're brilliant! You should be going to a proper university to study a high-flier course like medicine or law, instead of going to some film school. This conversation-"


"This conversation is over, right? Yes, I know the drill." With that, John walked slowly to his room, head hung low in defeat. He laid in his bed and stared at the ceiling for hours, stopping only to pretend to be asleep  when his mother called him for dinner. He wasn't exactly sad or angry, because he's had this conversation quite a few times already. He definitely wasn't happy either. All he felt was emptiness, as it slowly dawned upon him that his dream, which had for so long been his primary driving force, was more or less unreachable. That night, a little part of him died, and he finally fell asleep.


Ten years later, John's alarm clock blared loudly in his ear, as he struggled to keep his eyes open long enough to find the snooze button. Half-dazed, he slowly washed up and got changed for work. "Another day..."he mumbled to himself, as he shambled out of the house.


Still half-asleep when he reached his workplace, John willed himself out of the elevator, lurching slightly forward due to his drowsy stupor. Finally, with a loud and clumsy thud, he landed heavily in his chair in his cubicle and started the computer. His eyes stared at the screen and his hand moved the mouse, but his mind refused to be part of the whole affair and decided to go into hiding. John just hated his job; something inside him just wretched at the thought of sitting in front of a screen and crunching numbers the whole day. Still, he put up with it, if not for the fact that it paid the bills every month. The overall experience was tolerable; he just tried not to think too much while working.


As the office clock chimed the end of the work day, John awoke from his daze and made his way out, and hopped onto a bus towards that cosy little pub that Zoe told him about. The Dreamers were finally meeting up again after close to ten years. So they chatted, and one by one they filled each other in on the past decade. Zach didn't do well enough to make it to sports school, and he's now working as a waiter in a restaurant; Marcus tried to work as a freelance artist, but gave it up and got a desk job. Their voices were tinged with disappointment as they recounted their lost dreams. Zoe, on the other hand, only listened intently.


When it was her turn to talk, she explained how she's now a part-time cashier at a fast food chain while enrolling in a dance choreography course. "The going's tough, but I know I can do it," she said, eyes burning with desire. However, those fires were soon struggling to survive as Zach and Marcus started throwing cold water on her plan. It's too risky, they said; it's not worth it, they said; it's too difficult, they said. Slowly, Zoe's confidence drained away, replaced by fear and uncertainty for the future. Watching the scene in front of him, John remembered some thoughts he once had as a teenager.


"The horrow of seeing men walk with the spark of life missing from their eyes." John looked first at Zach, then at Marcus, and he realised the drive to achieve their dreams at all cost, the spark which made them make the most of their lives, was gone. He reflected upon his own life too, and how he gave up his dream of being a director in favour of a less risky office job. He was as dead as Zach and Marcus.


"The despair that the lonely survivors feel." John now focused his attention on Zoe, and how she was starting to panic as her fellow dream chasers from her childhood now seemed to be completely different people, urging her to give up what used to keep them all alive. John tried to muster the will to encourage Zoe, to convince her to continue on her risky path, but he found that he could not look her in the eye and tell her so. He was too restrained by his own cowardice.


"The existential torment that zombies must feel in limbo between life and death." John thought about his daily routine, of the constant conflict within him between quitting a job he hated and maintaining a job at all. He thought about his failure to stand up for Zoe just now, quelling the remnants of his past self that protested Zach's and Marcus' pessimism. Living enough to recognise that he is dying, and dying enough to not be able to truly live again.


A bitter grimace formed on John's face as he downed the full mug of beer in front of him. "Another beer, please," he signaled to a nearby waitress, as he looked forward to blacking out his brain with alcohol that night. If he was going to be a brainless zombie, he might as well start acting the part.


I need to start writing more descriptively. I always get so caught up with the main story that's swirling in my head that I don't bother to take the time to give the reader a better idea of what exactly they're looking at in any given scene. Heck, I don't even give my characters names most of the time, but I had to make an exception this time because there were four characters in focus instead of just one. Oh well, all that will be for another time.

Writing and running

Counting down less than a month to SAT I. After about half a year (probably more) of procrastinating, I've finally registered for real and am now headed down the final run-up to the test itself. You'd think that having been in possession of the SAT prep book for half a year, I should be an absolute beast at this test by now. As much as I'd like for that to be true, or even to be able to fool myself into thinking it is, I am pretty well aware of how unprepared I am. Of course, saying things like this before a major test is pretty redundant. Is it possible to ever feel prepared enough for anything? The very thought of such a concept seems paradoxical, especially to a sleep-deprived mind like mine right now. All my life, whenever I had a test coming up soon and I wasn't studying for it, I was either thinking "aww man, I wish I had more free time to study" (rare response) or "screw this shit, these notes don't even have pictures" (common response). I have never thought of anything along the lines of "I have prepared myself to the fullest extent possible. Any further effort spent on preparation will only be wasteful and inefficient. I shall now do something else until the test day."

So long story short, the SAT is closing in on me and threatening to bite my very vulnerable rear end, and I'll need to start squeezing in as much last minute practice as I can to not fail myself and waste another month waiting for the next exam date.

A weird thing happened to me in camp on Tuesday. Out of the blue, I suddenly had a shock of inspiration course through my veins, and the only way I could release it was through creative writing. So, for the first time in 3-4 years, I wrote a one-word composition topic. It felt really cheap and pointless to come up with a word myself and then write about it, so I asked my bunkmate Zhaofeng to say the first word that came to his head, without telling him what it was for; he said "table". While in hindsight I probably could have written on the revolution of a group of sentient tables against their oppressive, put-heavy-stuff-on-their-heads human masters, at the moment I decided to ask him to pick another word; he said "zombie". It was yet another very unconventional word by 'O' level standards, but I already felt kind of guilty about rejecting the first word, so I decided to go with it. It definitely took a while to get the engine running after 4 years, but I had the luxury of writing in a non-timed setting, so by the end of the day I had a six-page essay on the word "zombie" which in my opinion (which I'm trying to keep as unbiased as possible) wouldn't look too out of place in the 'O' levels in terms of tone; fiction and drama, but nothing over-the-top which tries to disguise outrageous scenarios as good writing. I may or may not decide to retype it here for archiving's sake depending on my mood later on (I'm really too sleepy to type 6 pages right now). Maybe these creative writing exercises will become a once-a-month thing, because seriously why not: I enjoy writing stories in my own pace if inspiration wills me to do so.

Speaking of exercise, next Thursday is my IPPT for the year (cue nervous laughter). I really hope that I can maintain my silver this year, but with my PT schedule having been what it was for the past few months (empty), I really don't have that much confidence in myself right now. Oh well, there's always next time.

Murphy's executioner

Last Friday was, without a doubt, the absolute worst day I've ever had as an NSF and a strong contender for worst day of my life. I am not exaggerating when I say that every little thing that could have gone wrong did, stretching out what was supposed to be a half-day errand into a two-day marathon of malfunctions and breakdowns. To recap exactly what happened would be a long and tiring process, so let's just drop the subject and hopefully one day I will live to forget this ever happened.

Met up with some 09SH27 guys yesterday at Island Creamery to have a chilling and talking session. It was great to see people whom I haven't seen for a long time, like Victor, Kexuan and Rayson. Yicen came too, but she was the only representative from the girls' side, so you can see how well this supposed class outing turned out. Business as usual, as far as attendance is concerned. Still, we had a pretty good time, and I simultaneously discovered my new favourite ice cream flavour and the fact that nobody else shares my taste in ice cream (it's alright if no one else likes you, Burnt Caramel, you'll always have me!). After Island Creamery, we went to Adam Road hawker center to wait for Zikai, Guanhao and Darrell, only to find out that they were at Island Creamery the whole time -.- So we backtracked and chatted for another half hour or so. It never ceases to amaze me how you can have entire conversations develop out of nowhere as long as you have the right company.

Sometimes, unintentional callousness can be just as bad as intentional manipulation.

Antebellum of the revolution

A leader is only as powerful as his most powerful follower, and he shall do good to remember that; for though the foolish captain fancies himself the ruler of the sea, the wise captain knows that all are at its mercy.

You may think that you have the greater good at heart, but practically speaking it really only matters what they think you have in mind.

Art By Numbers

You know that feeling when the lead guitarist from your favourite band decides to give guitar lessons, and two of his students decide to set up their own band? No? Well, last week I found out what that feels like, and it is AWESOME.

The favourite band I'm talking about is The Human Abstract, and their lead guitarist AJ Minette was giving out guitar lessons at one point (in fact he's still doing that now). The newcomer band that I'm totally impressed with is Art By Numbers, and although you'd think that they'd sound too similar to THA, they surprisingly manage to distinguish themselves pretty well, preferring to go slower and let the classical influences sink in.

Here are a few songs for you to hear for yourselves:











I'd embed more songs, but unfortunately this is literally all there is... As a new band, this is all the material they've ever released. Their Facebook page says that they have an LP ready to be released, but they're not letting it out so soon, presumably to see how long a person can writhe about in agonising anticipation before collapsing from exhaustion.

Scars

Two years and four days ago, a wound was inflicted. Two years and four days later, all that remains is a scar. It is a symbol that although the physical, immediate pain has subsided, the memories associated with the gash still linger. Sometimes we can even forget about our scars and carry on life as per normal, until we take a good hard look at ourselves and see again the mark that history has left on us. It is not the same intense, stabbing pain of a fresh injury, but strikes beneath the thick, calloused skin and reaches the very soft, very vulnerable heart.

So once again, I look upon this old scar of mine and see the same things: failure, disappointment, regret.

Moonlight Sonata

The Human Abstract decided one day that they were not being awesome enough since the release of Digital Veil, so they decided to release a cover of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata, and you can bet that it's every bit as awesome as "amazing neo-classical progressive metal band covers famous piece from genius composer" would imply.



On a related note, after last year's flurry of amazing albums from The Human Abstract, Protest The Hero, Last Chance To Reason, Iwrestledabearonce and Mastodon, the music scene in the months ahead seem depressingly bleak. It's time for me to start looking out for new bands to get into to fill the void. Suggestions are welcome and I promise to be open-minded enough to give every band a listen, at least for 2 or 3 songs.

That's right, let's just keep soliciting feedback from my amazing readership of awkwardly loud crickets.

A gramme is better than a damn?

Just finished reading Brave New World. I know that it's compared a lot to 1984, seeing as both are dystopian futures which heavily feature brainwashing, but I find that while 1984 tries to scare the reader with the horror of the totalitarian state's thought police, Brave New World is unsettling in a much more subtle, perhaps more deep-seated way. The only thing worse than losing your freedom is not wanting it to begin with.

Reading this book has been the most intellectual stimulation I've had in recent memory, perhaps all the way from before NS.

Ideas are bulletproof

Just finished reading V for Vendetta. It's not as mind-blowing as Watchmen was for me, or maybe that's because I didn't get the shock factor of reading an Alan Moore comic for the first time. Still, it was a very good read and really caused me to think about the distinction between chaos and anarchy; are they the same thing, or is there a subtle and yet important distinction between having no order and having no imposed order? Did V really help an oppressed nation rise against its overlords like he claims, or did he just decapitate an already ailing country and leave them to deal with a different brand of misery? Perhaps he only represents one of anarchy's two faces; V's destruction to Evey's creation. Perhaps he recognised himself to be only half the man that anarchy was meant to be, and so forcibly transferred his mask to Evey.

"There, did you think to kill me? There's no flesh or blood within this cloak to kill. There's only an idea. Ideas are bulletproof. Farewell."

Now that I managed to check another book off my to-read list, I decided to take on something else: Aldous Huxley's Brave New World has been borrowed from the library and now sits in my bag, waiting to be brought back to camp to read. I seem to have a taste for these kinds of totalitarian dystopia satires...

I used to want you dead, but now I only want you gone

Sometimes, I like to hunker down for a heavy dose of introspection and retrospection, examining what went right or wrong with my life and myself, and figuring out how I can make myself a better person from those experiences. Other times, I like to watch stupid videos on the Internet while chuckling to myself while family members scramble to find the IMH hotline. Right now, it's the latter.

This first video has a deceptively tame title. Seriously, you need to watch this, even if you don't play the game (fyi I've only ever played MvC 1 on the original PS)





I've always wondered how I can stare at nyancat for what seems like several eternities without being able to turn away. The answer, of course, is awesome subconscious hallucinations. And did I mention that I LOVE this new nyancat song?




Yup, a ten-minute loop of the song. But you probably already guessed that it was coming.



This last video is the ending credits of Portal 2, coupled with yet another great theme song from Jonathan Coulton, Want You Gone. It's weird how I've fallen in love with the ending credit songs of both Portal and Portal 2 while having never played either of those games before. I know I'm missing out on a lot, but in case you didn't know, I only trust my laptop to run games with Plants vs Zombies-like graphics intensity, so I'll grab a copy of Portal 2 as and when I feel like my laptop would be more awesome with a self-destruct function.

Mental drought

I think my brain is trying to rebel against a mental drought. These few days it's like I will instinctively seek out intellectual stimulation when previously I was perfectly content sitting around doing nothing. Unfortunately, actually finding and partaking in such activities has so far only reminded me of how long it's been since I last really cranked my brain up to 11. While trying to teach my bunkmates what I learned during H3 maths, I realised I could barely remember half of what I learned, and it only becomes more true for H3 physics. I feel like I wasted my time to spend a whole year taking extra lessons (including half a year of pure insanity when physics clashed with maths) and then forget everything in the same amount of time. As nerdy as it may sound, I may start bringing H3 math questions into camp to do, if only to protect my one-year investment.

While on the subject of intellectual stimuli, I realise that as a person born in the 90s, I've already missed so many amazing movies which engage on an intellectual and artistic level, rather than on the "boobs and explosions" level which basically describes 70% of all current movies. Perhaps one of these days I'll make a list of all the movies I want to watch, and slowly hunt them down. I already have a few potential candidates for my list: Citizen Kane, Soylent Green, Rashomon, and The Room (because I've heard about how it's so legendarily bad that it's gained cult status). And while I'm at it, I might as well make a list for books as well: Metamorphosis, Brave New World, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, A Brief History of the Universe, and V for Vendetta (I know the last one is a graphic novel, but I'm making the rules here).

Fun fact of my life: I have the habit of occasionally reading up on modern physics on Wikipedia. It all started when I asked my H3 physics lecturer what would be good reading for beginner's quantum physics, and he replied "Wikipedia". Ever since then, whenever I get the sudden thirst for random physics-related knowledge, I'll go to the relevant Wikipedia page and just plunge right in without any prior contextual knowledge. Heck, I just spent the last hour reading up on string theory on Wikipedia, and I barely understood half of it.

The journey of a thousand miles has started

Chalk one up for the therapeutic effects of blogging.

Last Thursday in camp, I opened my SAT book for literally the first time in months, and through sheer force of will, I did an entire paper at one go.

Except the essay.

Oh come on, I'm not a miracle worker, you can't expect me to go from nothing to full papers overnight.

For those of you who care, I assumed an essay score of 8/12 (is that a reasonable assumption? I have no idea), and with help from the nifty magical raw score-scaled score conversion table included in the book, I arrived at a score of *drumroll*... 2260, which is very... kind of... something? Honestly I have no idea what's the market rate for SAT scores, or barely anything about the SATs in general. Gotta make a mental note to research further.

ANYWAY, the point of this post is to commemorate that I've finally gotten off my ass and started some actual work, so yay me :D